Photography: Hagen Hopkins.
To the world, Witi Ihimaera is a literary icon. To his daughters Olivia and Jessica, he’s the dad who loves watching ’80s movies or Married At First Sight, starts food fights with his mokopuna, and never stops surprising them.
“You’d think that as an acclaimed author, my dad might be quite a serious person,” shares Olivia, 48.
“But he is the complete opposite. He’s still as fun today as he was when we were little, doing naughty things, like starting food fights with his mokopuna!”
With the release of Witi’s new memoir, Te Kaikaukau/ The Swimmer, Olivia and Jessica sit down with their beloved father to talk about his most transformative chapter yet – returning to the classroom at 80 to finally learn his ancestral language.
“I had always thought that Dad spoke te reo relatively fluently,” shares researcher Jessica, 50.
“So I was surprised to find out that he didn’t think he was good enough.”
A turning point after 50 years of writing
Olivia adds, “I don’t think I’d ever thought about the fact that not knowing te reo might also make him feel not Māori enough. It was a pretty brave decision to be so open about this and determined enough to dedicate an entire year towards it.”
Witi recalls a moment from many years ago when even his own parents assumed he could speak Māori.
The conversation that changed everything
He shares, “My father and mother always thought I had grown up with the reo. When they realised I hadn’t, they were quite surprised. “They thought it should have been natural. When I said it wasn’t, my father paused and said, ‘Maybe that’s why you became so good in English and why you needed to grow up in English, to practice so you could write all these books.’”
For five decades, Witi excelled in the English language, penning 19 creative works since his 1972 debut at 28 years old. Four were made into films, and many were translated into other languages.
Then, at the end of an international tour to celebrate his 50th anniversary as an author, he had a profoundly life-changing experience during a TV interview in the US.
The moment everything changed
“You could say that I was at the top of my profession,” recalls Witi, now 82.
“I sat down with the interviewer, and she said, ‘Can you tell me a little about your career as a Māori writer?’ I was sitting there under the blazing lights, wondering what to say, when I saw this person standing on the side watching me.”
It was his late father Te Haa o Ruhia (Tom) Ihimaera Smiler Jr, who passed away in 2010.
“He said to me in Māori, ‘All of these accomplishments in the English language, eh son?’ And I knew exactly what he meant. Although I had offered all of the best mahi I could in English, it was time for me now to write at least one book i roto i te reo mō ō tātou tūpuna me ngā tamariki o āpōpō [in te reo for our ancestors and the next generation]. “As soon as the interview was over, I cried and cried, and hopped on the plane to come back to New Zealand.”
Starting over at 80 years old
Back home at 80 years old, Witi enrolled in Te Wānanga Takiura’s intensive one-year, total-immersion Māori language programme in 2024.
“It was not easy to go back to school, to wake at 6am, do my homework, pack my school bag and sit with these very young students,” Witi confides.
“I was the oldest student in the class. I should have been ashamed – and I was – but I was also proud to be doing that work with them.”
Determined to honour his father through te reo
“I didn’t go to Takiura just to learn how to speak te reo – I went because I wanted to learn to write that book for my father in te reo. He didn’t ask me to write it but I knew that was what I had to do.”
Watching Witi struggle in a foreign environment was at times difficult for his daughters.
“It was worrying,” admits Jessica.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that tired before, and this is a man who is always working on something, usually several somethings. It meant a great deal to him, though, and I am so proud of him for pushing through.”
The students who helped carry Witi through
Witi is philosophical about the role reversal from being at the top of his game to relying on the generation he hopes to inspire.
He grins, “At this age of life, you want to be able to support rangatahi [youth], but when you are supported by rangatahi in a classroom situation, man oh man, it was the best feeling.”
Laughing, he talks about some of his antics, like well-timed bathroom breaks to avoid being called on in front of the class or strategically dropping his glasses when asked a question by his teacher.
“By the time I picked them up, the other tauira [students] had closed ranks around me and had answers for me. It was lots of fun and we turned it into a game, ‘Let’s make sure koro is in a position to answer competently.’ “I thank them all for being my family and supporting me for a whole year in my ambitions.”
Olivia and Jessica are also deeply grateful to the students who adopted their dad.
“There were times I think he probably wanted to give up,” shares Coffee Supreme people and culture manager Olivia, who is mum to Witi’s only granddaughter, 14-year-old kapa haka enthusiast Aria.
“But I think he felt a responsibility to his fellow akonga [students] to see it through. It was wonderful how they all supported and carried each other.”
Why Witi wanted to speak to his ancestors
While Witi says he still has much to learn, completing the year of study fulfilled a lifelong dream he had quietly carried for decades.
“One of the main reasons I did this is so when I get to Heaven and meet my ancestors, whose language will never have been English, I will be able to speak to them,” he tells earnestly.
After graduating, he devoted 2025 to penning Te Kaikaukau/The Swimmer.
“It’s been a true honour to write,” enthuses Witi, who is speaking this week at the Auckland Writers Festival to coincide with the release of his book.
It’s written largely in English, but sprinkled with proverbs and his presentation is in te reo. One of the surprising things readers will discover is that Witi no longer exists by the name they have known him by for more than 50 years.
Witi’s powerful decision to reclaim his full name
“This is the first time I have used my full name, Witi Ihimaera Smiler,” shares Witi, who elaborates more in the book about his powerful decision to reclaim the Smiler name.
“Transformation is what happens when you learn te reo. You will go in one person and come out another, and that person may not be recognisable any more because you have transcended your own expectations.”
Te Kaikaukau, he says, is not just about a language journey, “but also a traversal of a very surprising and very privileged life, having been brought up with mātauranga Māori [knowledge] and within
the Māori world, yet at the same time, growing up without the language.”
The farm boy who became one of New Zealand’s greatest writers
Raised on a Te Karaka farm, near Gisborne, Witi remembers his rural upbringing fondly.
“I was a farmer’s son until I left at 16, and even these days I have always thought if I wasn’t a writer, I would really like to be a farmer.”
He describes his career and life as a “magnificent accident” that grew out of mediocre grades and a degree that took nine years to complete.
Witi shares, “My father said, ‘Congratulations. It’s about time – even the tortoise didn’t take this long.’ It’s the same way for me with the reo. It has taken me a long, long time to get here.”
So, what’s next? Witi shares he’s finally ready to fulfil that promise to his father and write a book entirely in te reo Māori.
Witi reveals his next powerful chapter
“You’re the first person I’ve told,” says Witi, quietly excited.
“The first book in te reo will be called I Waenga/Between.”
With plans to eventually write a Māori trilogy, he’s aware of the mountain ahead of him.
“It’s going to be very tiring and a lot of work trying to make myself a new dictionary and vocabulary,” admits Witi.
“But I keep on thinking about my Nanny Teria saying to me as a child, ‘It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as it is good work for your people.’ So all I am doing is what my nan told me to do.”
Why Witi says his books are now his ‘fence posts’
Another memory comes to mind of his father saying, “At least your job beats digging in fence posts” – a task Witi used to help out with regularly on the farm.
“Now, if I could, I would say, ‘Dad, there’s no comparison – my books are my fence posts.’ Writing each book is putting in another fence post.”
Te Kaikaukau/The Swimmer (Auckland University Press, rrp $45).
To see Witi at the Auckland Writers Festival, visit writersfestival.co.nz/programmes/writers/witi-ihimaera
